


Second Chances

by afterandalasia



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Canon Related, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Post-Beauty and the Beast (1991), Redemption, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When LeFou happens to meet a stranger to the town, he does not think that she might change things for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midoriri](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=midoriri).



> Originally inspired by a comment at Das Sporking.

The rain thundered down. LeFou looked into the bottom of his tankard, the last few drops, then pushed it aside before he could think of asking for another. The tavern was still rowdy and bright with conversation, but he sat in a small, quiet corner. There had been one or two requests to join him earlier in the evening; he had refused. He knew that they had come from pity for the man who had been foolish enough to make himself second-in-command to Gaston.  
  
Without saying goodnight to any of the other patrons, he slipped out of the tavern and hunched down, shielding his eyes with one hand as he made his way through the streets. The cobbles were slick and the night dark, but he knew his way well enough, and there would be few people about at this time of-  
  
He collided with someone, not all that hard, but the surprise and the rain conspired to send his feet out from under him and he hit the muddy road. A protest rose in LeFou's throat, but he swallowed it back when he saw the other person - a woman, mud staining her cloak and the fine purple dress beneath, her face pale and strained and her hair coming loose from its bun. She looked exhausted.  
  
"Here," he said, getting to his feet and reaching across. She looked to have caught herself on one knee as she fell. "Let me help."  
  
"Thank you," she said. She wore no gloves, and though her hands were soft her fingers looked raw. She straightened up and made a vain attempt to straighten her skirt, apparently unsurprised by the rip near the hem. When she caught LeFou's eyes, she gave a wary, tired smile. "You must think me terribly rude. And here I am, not even knowing to whom I am speaking."  
  
She had a prim accent, well-educated, and the case she had dropped looked to be made of good solid brown leather even if it was worn. Raising her hood against the rain, she wrapped her cloak around herself.  
  
"LeFou," he said. "Jean LeFou, but... people call me LeFou." When there were already other Jeans in the village, it had been necessary to come up with some way of telling them apart. He supposed that he should be grateful that they had come up with no worse nickname for him.  
  
"My name is Fae Hivers. Is there a tavern in this village? A place I could sleep?"  
  
"Of course," he said. "Come on, I'll show you."  
  
It was not that far away, after all, and he could not bear the thought of leaving the poor woman out in the rain by herself. Besides, there were those in town worse than him. Fae went to pick up her case, already wincing slightly in anticipation of pain, and before he could think on it too much LeFou stepped in and picked them up for her instead.  
  
"Here, I'll take them."  
  
Relief and gratitude rushed through her eyes. "Thank you, Monsieur LeFou."  
  
Then, side-by-side, they trudged back up the road towards the tavern.  
  
  


 

  
  
  
The storm overnight had made the skies clear, and LeFou's mood was much less grim the following day as he rose, washed and breakfasted. Another day of following the hunts awaited him - it had been one thing when it had been Gaston who had employed him, given him a cut of his catches. Now he followed other men, picking up the odd duck or rabbit here and there, but it could barely be called enough to live on. His family did not own land; LeFou had to buy all of his food, and therefore earn the coin for it. Working with the hunts did most of that, and working as a night-groom at the tavern for the rest. It was said that there was good money to be found working at the Castle, now that it was alive once again, but LeFou could not bring himself to that. He would risk having to face the new Princess Belle, after all, and did not think that he could bring himself before her after everything that he had almost helped to do.

"Monsieur!" someone called from behind him. He ignored it; such calls were always meant for others. "Monsieur LeFou!"  
  
That was enough to make LeFou stop. Nobody called him _Monsieur_ , and the voice was a familiar one. He turned to see the woman from the previous evening - Fae, had she called herself - running out from the tavern. She looked less pale now, he was glad to see, pink in her cheeks and her red curls better swept into place.  
  
"Good morning, Mademoiselle," he said, because if nothing else he did have some manners. "Are you all right?"  
  
She came to a halt beside him, slightly out of breath. The dress she wore today was clean, yellow, and looked far too expensive for a town like this. "Yes, thank you," she said. "I wished to extend my gratitude for last night. I fear I would have been quite lost without you."  
  
"Well, it isn't that hard to find the tavern," said LeFou. "You just... aim for the loudest people."  
  
It sounded ridiculous as he said it, but Fae chuckled anyway. "Well, I shall remember that." Her hands were clenched tightly in her skirt, and her shoulders were tensed. Her eyes flitted to the few other people awake and passing through the streets, some of whom gave them vaguely curious glances but most of whom did not care.  
  
"Is there..." he looked her over cautiously. "Is there something else I can help you with?"  
  
"Do you know somewhere that I might find work?" she said, the words coming out in a rush. LeFou blinked in surprise, and could not help glancing over her clothes again. No, he had been quite right; they looked expensive. A noblewoman's.  
  
"What?" he managed.  
  
She blushed, the colour making the freckles on her cheeks stand out and her green eyes look even brighter. "I have come in search of work," she said, a little more firmly this time.  
  
Not even sure what to think, let alone to answer, LeFou just looked at her stupidly for a moment. The colour in her cheeks deepened, then she raised her head defiantly.  
  
"I'm sorry, I did not realise that would be such an unanswerable question," she said, turning to leave.  
  
LeFou hurried in front of her, holding up his hands. "Sorry, Mademoiselle. You just caught me by surprise, that's all. I hear they're looking for maids at the castle, maybe even lady's maids," he added, thinking again of her good clothes. Something told her that she would not exactly be the sort for farm labour. "Or you could see if the priest has need of work. Or of course, if you know any healing, there's always a call for that." In the country, there were usually only wise woman or male doctors, but you never knew in the city. If that was where Fae was from at all.  
  
For a moment her face was blank, and LeFou thought that she might laugh, or mock his suggestions. But instead she smiled again, and it made her seem to light up. "Thank you, Monsieur. That is the kindest that anyone has been to me in... a very long time."  
  
  


 

  
  
  
Of course, she quickly became the focus of town gossip. Nobody seemed to know who she was, or where she came from, though some people thought that they had heard the name _Hivers_ before. It turned out that she could read and write, at least according to old Louise Deforest who did the flowers and kept the candles in the church where Fae had managed to find work. She wore those same fine clothes day after day, and sewed up each new rip, and people swore that her stockings were more darn than silk. But try as they might, people could not find out about her past, could not get her to speak of her father or of any brothers, and it seemed that she had simply appeared from nowhere to live in the town.

LeFou saw her from time to time, but only rarely, as she seemed very much to keep to herself. It surprised him, therefore, when a knock at the door one cool fall evening weeks later turned out to be none other than Fae, with her head covered and her pretty yellow gown now patched at the hem.  
  
"Hello?" he said, not certain what else he might have managed.  
  
"Good evening, Monsieur," she said, with the slightest bow of her head. Again, a city thing. "I wanted to thank you again."  
  
"I seem to remember you thanking me when we first me," he said, feeling flustered. "I don't think I've done anything else since then."  
  
She laughed, the sound bright and merry. A stray red curl had snuck out from beneath her bonnet, and she tried and failed to tuck it back again. "Well, perhaps I'm just not sure that I can thank you enough for that first meeting. And the second. I wouldn't have known where to get a job if you hadn't said."  
  
There was no mocking in her eyes, not even teasing. He did not know whether she had heard about Gaston and his descent into obsession, let alone whether she had heard that LeFou almost rode his coat-tails into the whole horror. If she had, she did not act like it.  
  
"So," she said finally, "thank you."  
  
He had rabbit stew for dinner tonight. The thought came to him almost without anything preceding it, and before LeFou could stop his mouth from embarrassing him he found himself asking: "Would you stay for dinner?"  
  
Fae looked shocked and of course, it was ridiculous, an unmarried woman taking dinner with an unmarried man was the sort of thing that would keep the gossips busy for weeks at the very least. Not to mention that he hardly knew her, that all he had done was point her to a tavern and suggest where she might find work when he had seen her soaked through and tired in the rain one night.  
  
So it astonished him when she said, quite simply: "Yes."  
  
  


 

  
  
  
"I come from Dijon," she admitted, some way into the meal and after a meandering, awkward conversation had finally and inescapably turned to her past. She put one elbow on the table and leant her cheek in her hand. "My father wished for me to marry a man... a cruel man. I will not speak his name. But he was known to beat his servants and horses both, and to treat the former no better than the latter. I told my father I would not marry him, but he would not listen. And after my fiancé," she pronounced the word with the faintest veneer of disdain, "struck me as well... I knew I could not take it. So I left."  
  
"And came here?" said LeFou, unable to quite hide the astonishment in his voice. True, such a small town as this would be perfect for hiding in, but it was a strange one to settle for.  
  
Instead she smiled sadly. "And came as far as I could. Here is where I ran out of money - save for a little I had saved for a few days of food. The coachman even demanded my mother's ring to bring me this far. Then I tried twice to ask people for directions, and you know what they did?"  
  
"No," said LeFou cautiously.  
  
"Nothing," Fae said. "They did not even answer me. And yet you not just answered me, you were kind enough to help me find a place here."  
  
The compliment made him blush in turn, and set a strange warm feeling running through him. He smiled in return, and raised his cup. "To..." he fumbled for a toast.  
  
"To friendship," said Fae. She carefully tapped the rims of their cups together.  
  
Yes, that felt about right. LeFou nodded. "To friendship."


End file.
